


Beyond the Abyss

by atsammy



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-finale Speculation, Spoilers for Finale Preview, will be Jossed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 22:26:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atsammy/pseuds/atsammy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tamara and Greg stole from Regina, and the world ended.  What happened after the fall?</p><p>Speculation about what happens after the finale, based on a plot-bunny from the ABC preview and a behind the scenes photograph I happened to see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beyond the Abyss

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Michanna for the beta! 
> 
> This is pure speculation, based solely on the post-ep preview and a behind the scenes photograph.

When Belle’s memories came flooding back, they had only moments for a tear-filled kiss before Emma and her father came into the shop, and his world ended. As she held him tightly, his neck wet from her tears, he wondered why he wasn't dust, and knew it was because she would not let him go. When the end finally came, scant hours later, it was almost a blessing as he tried to stay behind when his cursed world collapsed. But she didn’t allow it, while the world ended and everyone around him fled into the unknown. It was a leap of faith he didn't deserve to take, and he clung to her, and fell.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They were back in the Enchanted Forest. Snow recognized it immediately, as she was picking herself up off the ground. All around her, several hundred people were doing the same, pushing upright, looking around in fear and in awe and in surprise. No one had truly expected to survive the journey, much less make it back home. But here they were, on the forest floor that she vaguely recognized as not being too far from the dwarf mines.

David was holding her, asking if she was alright, and there was Emma, Henry held tight in her arms. Something flittered across her vision, and she realized that Archie was once more a cricket. Flashes of color in the air weren't a result of the fall, but the fairies, small again, with their wings fluttering rapidly as they flitted here and there. So many people, and yet so few, compared to the number who'd lived in their world before the curse. 

She'd barely caught her breath and convinced herself that Emma was alright, even as Henry cried against her shoulder for his mom, when someone walked into their little haven, bow drawn. It had been a few months, but she recognized the armor, and yelled out a name that made everyone around her pause and look her way. The bow was lowered, the string relaxed, and the helmet pulled off. 

"Snow?"

"Mulan," she repeated, tugging David and Emma with her as she went to her. "It's alright," she called distractedly to the dwarves, who'd armed themselves with heavy branches in the few moments they'd been there. "She's a friend."

Mulan was looking around at the crowd of people, some milling about, others seated where they'd fallen. "Why did you come back?"

"We had to. Our town was destroyed, this was our only escape. We didn't know we were coming here. You're Mulan?" David still had his arm around Snow's waist, and his other hand on the gun at his hip, but he seemed more curious about their visitor than concerned.

"You were expecting someone else?"

"We weren't expecting anyone, really," Snow offered. "We didn't know where we would be taken. How did you know we were here?"

"A storm came up, the same as what brought the wraith here. After yesterday, we thought someone else had come through, we didn't realize there would be... so many." Mulan cast an uneasy gaze around the crowd, eyeing the fairies and the dwarves with confusion and concern. "Did they come with you?"

"Who?" 

"Hook and Cora. They haven't been seen since you left, we assumed they found a way to your world."

"They did, but Cora is dead. And Hook hasn't been seen for weeks now. We were one of the last ones through the portal, and I never saw him," David answered her. 

"Mulan," Emma broke in, one hand running through Henry's hair. "You said yesterday. What happened yesterday?" There was a guarded edge to her voice that caught Snow's attention.

"Another storm. It wasn't far from our campsite so I went to look, and someone came through. He must be from your world, he's wearing your..." she gestured vaguely at their clothing, "fashion."

"Neal?" The hope in her daughter's voice, ragged with unshed tears, nearly broke Snow's heart. "He's here? He's alive?"

"Yes. He's hurt, but he's alive."

Emma nearly collapsed, caught only by Henry and Snow. David wrapped his arms around the three of them, as the tears the Emma had spent hours fighting off finally broke through. 

Snow turned her head to look at Mulan, a small smile on her lips. "We didn't think that he'd survived. After he was shot, he went through a portal and we had no idea where he'd gone, or if he even made it through."

Mulan nodded as she continued to survey their group. "If you want, I can take you to him. Aurora's with him now, but..."

"No need, we're here," a soft voice interrupted. 

They all turned, as two figures emerged from the cover of the trees. Neal was leaning heavily on Aurora, who Snow was rather amused to see was wearing trousers, but despite the drying blood on his shirt and jacket he appeared alright. 

"Dad!"

Snow was shoved back against her husband as Henry broke free of them and ran to Neal, slamming into him hard enough to knock him down. Emma followed him, falling to her knees beside them as Aurora was helped back to her feet by Mulan. David wrapped his arms around her waist when she started forward and cautioned her, "Let them go, Snow. They need to be the ones to sort this out."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Neal ignored the pain and the awkwardness of the jury-rigged bandages around his chest, and hugged Henry tightly to him. After surviving his trip through the portal, the last thing he'd expected was to ever see his family again, but there was Henry, crying into his shoulder, and Emma kneeling there like she had no idea what to do next. She probably didn't, and so he loosened one hand and held it out to her.

"Hey."

She drew in a ragged breath as she reached out her own hand. "Hi."

"What happened?" He glanced first at Henry, then out to the crowd of people that were starting to group together. "How'd you all get here?"

She twined her fingers with his, and he frowned as she looked away. "Tamara and Greg stole something from Regina, which gave them the power to destroy Storybrooke. We were able to get one last... uhh... magic bean, and use it. Regina held off the destruction as long as possible, and almost everyone made it through, it think."

"Regina? Not..." He couldn't say it. 

"Gold couldn't do anything," she answered. "The curse that created Storybrooke was his, he said, but Regina did something to it, that gave her a... I don't know, a failsafe or something. Something that would destroy Storybrooke, if she wanted to. She was the only one who had a chance of stopping it."

"Oh." He looked around, but from where he still sat in the dirt, he couldn't see anything. "Is he... Did he make it through?"

His breath caught when she shook her head, and started again when she shrugged. "I don't know. Henry and I were one of the first through, but there are a lot of people here, and I wasn't really paying attention."

He watched as she looked around. "David?"

Neal watched, unavoidably fascinated as he always was, as Emma's father, who if Henry's stories were right was younger than Emma, came over immediately. Was it awkward that grandfather of his child was younger than him and yet still gave him the stink eye? Yes. But, he reckoned, this was the Enchanted Forest. 

"Yeah?"

"Did you see Gold come through?"

David glanced at him. "I think so. They were right behind us; I think they made it through in time." He looked around and found a tree stump to step up on. "Yeah. I think they're over there," he pointed almost directly opposite their little group. "By the trees, near Ella and Thomas."

They. So that girl was still there, the one who dressed like she belonged in a night club and grinned when his father beat a man on the ground. The one who'd shown just what a fool Neal had been, falling for his father's little performance. 

"Oh."

He looked away, down at his son, and remembered being young enough to cling to his father like that, dressed in carefully tended rags in their dark hovel. 

"He thinks you’re dead, you know," Emma said quietly. "We told him what happened, a few hours ago. He was devastated." She squeezed his hand, and he remembered letting go, and being let go. "Maybe you should go talk to him. At least let him know you're alive?"

He sighed, and winced when the bandages shifted against his wound. 

"I don't know."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Belle landed awkwardly, Rumple's cane digging into her knee as she tried to roll off of him. In what little she could see around them, it looked like everyone they'd followed through had made it, and they were in a forest somewhere. Looking down at Rumple, who had pushed himself up onto his knees, she gasped, and looked around quickly. No one was paying them any attention, and she was grateful as she pulled him up with her, and away from the others. He followed, as blindly as he had done since they'd told him about Baelfire, and sat when she did, under the leaf filled branches of a willow.

He'd changed. Back into what he'd been when they'd met, his skin rough and glittering in the pale light. He was still in his Storybrooke clothes as she was, except for the suit coat he'd given her after her memories returned and she saw just what she was wearing. He didn't seem to notice, though, and she was grateful. His hands trembled in his lap as his cane fell to the side, useless. With one hand she covered them, and the other came to rest against his neck, under his hair, and she pulled him to rest against her shoulder. Conscious of the people milling about, she curled around him as best as she could and held him. Slowly, he started to shake, and warm wetness trickled down her neck into the thin material of… whatever she was wearing. 

His tears brought her tears, and the way he kept whispering “Bae” against her skin broke her heart, so she pulled him closer. Nothing soothed him, not her fingers through his hair nor her lips against his brow, but she didn’t care. She would stay there, holding him, until the end of her days if he needed it. She would stay, and grieve with him over the child he’d loved so much that she’d loved him as well. There hadn’t been time before; she would make time now.

She didn’t know how much time passed, but it did, and people around them moved. He calmed, or his trembling did, until he was barely breathing against her neck. His hands had slipped inside the coat she wore, to hold lightly onto her waist. She pressed her lips again to his brow, and found the roughness of his skin to be familiar, even after her time with him in Storybrooke. He moved against her, and she knew when he discovered just how he’d changed by the sharp intake of breath, and the way he tried to pull away. She didn’t let him.

“Don’t let go, Rumple,” she whispered. “I’ve got you, forever.”

The weight of his head against her shoulder grounded her, and she closed her eyes and just listened, to him and to the noise around them. It would only be a matter of time before people came to them, to find out if he was a threat or an ally, if she was the same. They’d feel safer here, where he wasn’t the only one in control of his magic.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sometime later, the feeble sunlight that broke through the treetops vanished, and she blinked open her eyes. The woman, Emma, who had an annoying habit of appearing out of nowhere, had done it again. She was standing over them, with her reddened eyes, and a strange, hesitant expression on her face. Someone else came up to stand nearby, a few feet away, and Belle couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t possible.

“Bae…” she whispered, barely making a sound. 

“Lacey?” Emma started awkwardly, as Belle couldn’t take her eyes off of him. “Is he…”

Belle ignored her. She tightened her hand against Rumple’s neck and tugged just enough so that she could see his face, still hidden in the shadows from their audience. “Rumple?” He stared up at her, more tired than she’d ever seen him look, and it was so wrong that he looked that way. He was _Rumplestiltskin_ , all movement and power and strength, even when he was standing still leaning on a cane. “Rumple, look.” She pulled away from him, forcing herself to ignore the way he tried to cling to her.

“Oh my God,” she heard Emma say sharply, and she looked away from Rumple just enough to glare at her when she stumbled back a step. 

Belle felt it the instant Rumple looked, really looked, and saw his son standing there, only a few feet away. He went unnaturally still, and his hands clenched against her skin so much that it hurt. 

“Bae?”

He finally moved, pushing himself upright and bringing her with him. When his hands left her, she grabbed hold of one, hoping to ground him when he looked on the verge of collapse yet again. His golden skin had paled to the color of ash, and she knew the look on his face. She’d seen it before.

“Bae… You’re alive?”

“I’m surprised you care, Papa. You certainly haven’t given a damn the last few weeks.”

The bitterness in his voice was offset by his anxious posture, and that was enough to keep Belle silent for a bit longer. To his credit, he didn’t move away when Rumple took a hesitant step towards him. Not like Emma did. 

“Bae, I… I’m…”

“Forget about, Papa. You’re the Dark One again; you got some new girl who likes your power. I get it. It’s easier. I just wanted to let you know I’m alive.”

Belle had flinched, as he spoke. There had been no time to think about what she’d… done. All the things that she’d done, and said, and would need to say. She’d remembered her real life, and then there had been chaos. But Bae wasn’t wrong. There was a part of her that reveled in Rumple’s power, as much as she hated how he used it, and her other self had abused that revelation. When she could face him again, Emma was staring at her, a confused look fading to understanding as Bae turned to walk away again.

“Neal, wait. I don’t…”

Bae turned his back on them. “We should get back to Henry. I did what you asked, let’s go.”

He walked away. He actually got a few steps away before Rumple shook free of his paralysis and stumbled after him, dragging Belle behind him. “Wait, Bae! Please!” His voice was stronger, losing some of the smoothness it had in Storybrooke, but there was no jubilation in it. Belle thought perhaps that was why Bae did actually stop.

She watched as Bae stood still, staring up at the tree tops high above. He sighed, and turned back around. “What?”

“I…” Rumple started, ignoring the way the crowd of people they’d stopped beside had begun to notice him and back away. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

Belle didn’t need the brush of his thumb across the back of her hand or the way his eyes ever so briefly flickered to her to know what he was about to do. Warmth flooded her chest, her love for him and her pride threatening to spill forth so forcefully she could barely contain it. The disdainful way Bae looked at her and rolled his eyes couldn’t put a damper on that. 

“We’ve already met, remember? Over the body of whoever that was you were stepping on?”

“No. That’s not…” 

Belle squeezed his hand supportively, and let him draw her forward. 

“I’d like you to meet Belle, the Lady of Avonlea.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

This was a mistake. Perhaps it was the confirmation that he was actually alive, and that Emma was here, with Henry, and they were alive, that made Neal give in to her stupid idea of seeing his father. He’d gone, and not only was his father there with that horrible girl, he’d changed, into the version of his father that he saw in his nightmares. He forced himself to ignore the guilt and the fear and the terror that was so evident on his father’s face, and more than anything the love and the sorrow and the joy. He couldn’t deal with this right now. It was too much, and when he tried to walk away, for the first time, his father didn’t let him go.

He was so used to his Papa taking the easy way out, not fighting for him, and now when he finally did, all he wanted to do was introduce his little girlfriend? He’d seen enough of her already, thank you, enough to know that this girl was not worth the pretty little words his father had acted out in his shop. He was not a fool. 

“I’d like you to meet Belle, the Lady of Avonlea.”

The words did nothing to impress him, and he very nearly walked away again, but for the movement he caught out of the corner of his eye. This Belle was _curtsying_ before him, the movement so obviously unconscious and smooth and not what he was expecting. It made him look again.

She had the same face, and was wearing the same sort of trashy outfit he remembered, but… There was something different, in the way she returned his gaze. Where before there had been a sort of delighted cruelty, there was now a peace and sincerity that should have been out of place. It wasn’t. The girl from yesterday had stared at his father with calculated lust and nothing else, as much as that thought creeped him out like absolutely no other, but this one… She looked at a monster and there was _love_ there. Love like Emma’s parents had, or how Emma had once looked at him. 

“I don’t… Yesterday you were…”

“Playing a role, Bae. That’s all.”

“I don’t understand. What happened to… you know.” He waved his hand slightly at Belle, who blushed and reached up to adjust his father’s suit coat. Damn. He was unobservant.

“Tell him, Rumple,” Belle said, and he watched, oddly impressed as his father so visibly caved to her quiet demand. 

Maybe he could like this Belle after all. 

His father shifted his weight, leaning towards him without actually moving closer. "You were busy, after. You had Henry, and Ms. Swan here, and your... fiancé. I had a queen plotting yet another revenge against Snow White. And I had Belle. She was hurt, you see. By Hook out of revenge before we came to New York. She crossed the town line and lost her memory. I had to try and get it back, to get her back. I thought that there would be _time_. Time to get her back, for you to see that I was trying to be better. That there was something I loved more than my power. Some one. Two some ones, really.

"And then Regina came along. She found out that you are Henry's father, and instead of coming after you, or Emma, or the rest of you, she went after Belle. She gave her false memories, the young woman you saw me with yesterday. The perfect distraction; the only thing better would have been to get rid of you, but you were a lot harder for her to get to. She knew that I would do anything to get Belle back, even play the part of the Dark One to keep her interest while I tried to find a way. That it put us even more at odds I believe was just a bonus, in her eyes. By the time something worked, it was too late to find you, to explain, and to show you that you weren't wrong to give me one last chance."

It was bizarre, this speech. Never in his life had his father been so eloquent. So honest in a way that Neal almost didn't believe, except he was standing witness to it. There was no faking the grief still lurking in his eyes, or the fear or the love as he looked at Neal, and then at Belle. It was like he was seeing his father, truly seeing his father, for the first time since he became the Dark One, and he didn't even have his own face any more. This was just too weird. 

"Well..." He cleared his throat. "Right. Ok." 

He had no idea what to say, so he said nothing else against the backdrop of voices behind him. He just looked at his father, who met his gaze as squarely as he had never done before, until he couldn't anymore. He turned away. A rustling of cloth pulled him back, and he turned in time to see Belle raise their joined hands to hold his father's hand against her cheek. She didn't seem to notice, or to care, how different he looked, how savage his hands could be. 

"How can you do this?"

He didn't realize right away that those words were his. That the incredulity was his. 

Had they been in a darkened room, he was certain her smile would have lit it like the sun. Belle was perfectly named.

"I see the good in him, when he can't see it in himself. When no one else bothers to look. And he sees me, as more than just an ornament on his arm, a trophy to be displayed to elevate his manhood." She looked up at his father, who was staring at her like she was the most wondrous thing in the world. Neal supposed that he was right. 

"I love him. And nothing can stop true love." 

There was a challenge in her gaze. Neal could see it clear as day. A challenge, but also a promise and a vow. So while he raised his eyebrows at the sight of his father initiating a kiss with a beautiful young woman, he really wasn't all that surprised. Uncomfortable, yes. Little bit awkward as it intensified, and Belle wrapped her arms around him, but not surprised.

Well, until his father pulled back. His hands were hidden under the coat Belle was wearing, but his face... Even from where Neal was standing he could see that the texture of his skin was shifting, the newly-returned roughness and color fading away in patches to be normal skin once more. The audible gasps of their audience made it abundantly clear that he wasn't dreaming. 

His father and Belle seemed content to ignore them all, if Belle's growing smile and flushed cheeks were anything to go by. Neal couldn't tear his eyes away as his father leaned down once more. His words were soft, not meant for anyone else’s ears, but Neal could just make them out.

"Kiss me again. It's working."


End file.
